Rebecca Jones-Howe's Blog, page 6

Why I Love St. Patrick’s Day

Recently I went out seeking a shamrock cookie cutter. Michaels didn’t have one (or any St. Patrick’s Day decor). Bulk Barn didn’t have one, or even any green sprinkles, for that matter. St. Patrick’s Day might not be the most popular holiday, but it is my second-favourite holiday after Halloween and here’s why.

Seeing A Change of Season

Living in the B.C. interior, March always represents the beginning of spring. We might have a bit of snow left, but mid-March is always about that time of year when the snow melts enough to show some yellow on the ground. Or gold, if you wanna think of it that way.

The days are longer, too, which never ceases to bring me out of my SADS funk. St. Patrick’s Day always coincides with this new burst of energy and I love having a holiday to look forward to when I’m in a more upbeat mood about things.

Decorating

I don’t know why, but I always get a good crochet bite around St. Patrick’s Day. Maybe because Canada’s national curling championships occur at that time and crochet proves itself the best thing to do while watching curling, and after watching a day full of draws, I always end up with another handful of crocheted shamrocks. They’re easy and fun and green.

Over the years I’ve found St. Patrick’s Day decor a bit difficult to find. Most of it is pretty tacky, consisting of cheesy shirts and shot glasses. I like my St. Patrick’s Day decor a bit more rustic and typically opt to pair some green with burlap and rope. This year I went and did my mantle (featured in the header) but my absolute favourite wreath to design for my front door is the St. Patrick’s Day one.

This wreath (and basically every year’s St. Patrick’s Day wreath features this lovely set of free printable graphics from The Graphics Fairy.

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Baking Guinness Cupcakes

Specifically these Guinness cupcakes. Up until Covid, I’d make a LOT of them for friends and family, as well as all my coworkers. Typically, I’d buy a big bottle of Irish cream, loading up on the booze in the icing so that when one would open the cupcake courier, the entire breakroom would small of delicious Bailey’s.

Oddly enough, not being able to make cupcakes for my coworkers for the second year in a row has been really crappy. I’ll still make them for the people in my bubble, but dang, I really miss those late night’s I’d spend staying up to treat my fellow work pals.

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Having A Traditional Homemade Irish Dinner

My sister bought an Irish pub cookbook several years back, and thus started a Jones sibling tradition of having a family dinner together. We made Irish stew and soda bread and always cap off the night with Irish oat cream hot toddies. Over the years we’ve had kids, hosted dear friends and family. It’s become probably my most dearest family tradition over my green table cloth.

We typically make several dishes split between my sister and I, but in recent years I’ve SWORN by this Beef & Guinness stew.

Wearing Green

I remember being a kid and never having green clothes in my closet. I dreaded St. Patrick’s Day because people always threatened to pinch me for not wearing green, so I’d always have a hairclip or I’d put on nail polish or something.

These days, however, I’ve got enough green to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day in the most minimal of ways. And it’s always fun.

A Good Irish Music Playlist

I love playing these on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s not my normal fare of music, but it makes a good night of fun, prepping for dinner, dancing before dinner, and doing a little drinking before dinner.

I’ll never skip a rendition of “The Rocky Road to Dublin”.

Cillian Murphy

He’s Irish. And a good actor. And Peaky Blinders obviously makes for great St. Patrick’s Day viewing.

Do You Celebrate St. Patrick’s Day?

What traditions do you have? Do you celebrate the cheesy way with green beer? Or do you try to stay classy with whiskey? Do you stay home and cook or do you go to the pub?

Or are you one of those people who just wears green to avoid getting pinched?

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I’m A Millennial with a Side Part and I’m Okay

So apparently the Zoomers hate Millennials now. Or, well, the news found some tweets and deemed it so. Which means a handful of peeps took to TikTok to poke jokes at Millennials and a handful of Millennials responded and que the onslaught of quasi-journalism websites telling us who to hate again.

It’s Okay Because I Hate Myself

I kind of agree with this shit. In a way. Because it’s manufactured division and I kind of like that we’re being mocked for this garbage while it’s considered “trendy”, at least, in a Millennial way. But hey, I’m just a writer and a parent hoping to still keep my toes dipped in reality. I don’t want to turn into one of the older folks at my church worrying about kids having access to condoms and stuff. Because that was a thing I dealt with in my sad 90s youth.

And that is also a thing that Millennials do, is tell all these stories about things we consider to be “old” that happened in the 90s, which really wasn’t that long ago and doesn’t make us special. I do, however, appreciate the nostalgia I get when I see those spaghetti-strap maxi dresses being sold over a ribbed t-shirt.

I had one of those when I as 13 and felt so grown up and cool and trendy. And this is how I know my mom felt when bell-bottoms came back and she was all I USED TO WEAR THOSE. Everything gets recycled and it’s weird to see the change in demographics change in real time when I’m now 34, which isn’t that old. Or at least, not Fox News demographic old.

It just feels old because college doesn’t feel that long ago. And high school doesn’t feel that long ago. And now my kid’s in Kindergarten and I’m reflecting back on a lot of things I still remember about being a kid. Which was in the 90s. Just in case you didn’t know.

*insert GIF here*

I still want to be able to write the occasional high school story and not feel like I’m V.C. Andrews’ ghostwriter trying to write a high school girl.

Millennials Love Talking About Getting Old

I bought a Purple seat cushion recently because my ass was killing me every time I sat down. It’s a mom thing, I think. The seat cushion worked. But then it make me sit up a bit higher over my laptop and my neck started to hurt. So I stacked some boxes under my laptop and now my neck AND shoulders are perpetually killing me and I have no idea why.

I often ask my Boomer coworkers if this was how it started for them. It was. And now it’s happen to me. And yes, I shared this Britney Spears meme on Facebook to express my pain.

Because I had no other way, okay?

Millennials Love Skinny Jeans

Look, I wear them on the off-chance that I wear jeans, because they’re still like, culturally relevant? But I’ve got thick thighs and these fucking jeans don’t ever look on me like they do on the models. I remember watching an Oprah episode where Stacy London from What Not to Wear said that only a certain kind of woman with long skinny legs could wear skinny jeans and make them work, which was kind of bullshit because she was wearing them and everyone in the audience was wearing them. That episode showed a great many style of jeans on a myriad of different women (albeit with a now VERY non-trendy dark wash) and it was GREAT, but HEYYYYYYY, all we can still find at most places is fucking skinny dumbass jeans.

Remember when Jessica Simpson wore mom jeans? I thought it would become a new trend back then but everybody just made fun of her for it. Which was stupid. The mom jean trend came back like 15 years too late and I’m glad all these Zoomers are putting on the pants that I only DREAMED of wearing when low rise jeans were all one could buy from the stores at the mall.

Two great perks about skinny jeans, though. If you’re short, you don’t have to worry. Which is probably why I still wear them. BUT, a good boyfriend-cut pair of mom jeans also aids in this, so if I had to choose I’d go with the mom jean, unless it’s winter and I have to shove my jeans into my basic bitch Hunter boots.

Sorry I’m so cringe.

Millennials Love the Side Part

I’ll be uncool and stick with my side part. Granted, my header picture doesn’t have much of a side part because I naturally have a centre part. But with that centre part came a price. I spent all of teen years with it and now I have too many memories of this centre-part look paired with early-aughts rectangle glasses to change.

@sra_krod

i got bullied for this hairstyle. I refuse to give up my side part #FYP #foryourpage #eldermillenial #middlepart #teamsidepart #nerd

♬ original sound – Kristina

Millennials Love Coffee and Wine

Coffee and wine is def a stupid Millennial mom trope. I’ve seen PLENTY of duo coffee mug and wine glass sets at work to fucking hate this stereotype.

Everybody needs coffee to live in North America. It’s a societal norm. Granted, though, a lot of Millennials rely on coffee being a personality thing because, well, Starbucks? I remember hate-watching iJustine in my early 20’s and she literally made liking coffee and iPods her entire personality and I was always like THAT’S NOT A FUCKING PERSONALITY!I really hate the “mom juice” stereotype. Like, I get that having a drink at the end of the night helps soothe the nerves but like, dang, there are a lot of moms out there with legit drinking problems and it’d be nice to actually address them properly instead of capitalism perpetually selling gag products about this shit.

It’s funny to me that the Zoomers never mention the whole craft beer trend, because craft beer to me has always been a Millennial thing. Last craft beer fest I went to was made up exclusively of 100% Millennials and live indie rock I was like, OH GOD, THIS IS A GENERATIONAL THING.

And yes, I think those craft beer floats you can buy from the brew pubs are kind of cringe. Even brew pubs are pretty cringe. That one single universally industrial look to them? The culture itself is like, Boomer bingo hall level stereotype level. But for Millennials.

Millennials Love Joking About “Adulting”

And I fucking hate it. Being an adult is hard and sucks but when I do my taxes and I feel like my dad, I secretly contain that excitement and try to pretend to be super sophisticated and smart and shrug it off like it ain’t no big deal. Because it never felt like a big deal when my dad did it WITHOUT tax software.

Maybe this is just my insecurities bleeding out, but uh, I never felt secure doing anything adult in my life and I feel like that’s just how it’s always been. And we live in a more self-sustaining kind of culture now so we literally just have to feel ashamed if we can’t do anything on our own, without help.

So when we DO accomplish things associated with adulthood, we had to make up this dumb fucking term to joke about it. I don’t know why. Probably because the internet exists and we’re forced to joke about everything on here. And here I am, talking about adulting.

Everything Is Marketed at Millennials Now

Rae Dunn mugs? Blonde the Label sweatshirts? EVERYTHING FOR MOMS WITH THAT STUPID ASS CURSIVE FUCKING FONT? I work retail and I hate it all. I see the cliche, the stereotypes, the messy buns, the buffalo plaid flannel shirts, the Blundstone boots, the long-ass descriptive Twitter bios, of which of course I have.

Even Kate Spade rebranded and changed their logo from that banging green shade to the standard “millennial pink” shade that’s still EVERYWHERE in a better attempt to cater to us.

We’re all just insecure and sad and scared of becoming irrelevant. So we cling to all this stupid stuff to make us feel like we’re still relevant. We somehow think gifs at the best way to express things and I CAN’T STAND IT because Twitter was supposed to be about expressing yourself in 140 characters. Now it’s 180 characters, which means we can write ALLLLLLLL the essays we excruciatingly learned to write for free in high school and then went broke paying to learn how to write in first year English in college.

Least, that was experience.

Every so often I jump in on a “respond with a GIF” Twitter thread and I feel dumb for perpetuating the stereotype. But I mean, it’s just, it’s the Millennial way. And now we’re all old enough to have stereotypes made about us. You can sell all sorts of dumb shit to Millennials because as much as we get defensive, deep down we all know.

As for the Zoomers…

And I don’t think you all eat Tide Pods. That was a news story that went way overboard.

I won’t annoy you with my presence on TikTok.

However, I do very much appreciate all you lefty Twitch streamers. Like I hope you all go out and vote in a way the Boomers could never get us to go out to do, even despite all the annoying celebrity-ridden commercials telling us to participate in democracy. I don’t know why so many of us still don’t, even despite the fact that our dreams were fucked and we’re all gonna die from climate change and now worry about our kids dying from climate change and we can’t afford anything and can’t do anything with our college degrees.

So now we’re trying to be writers. Or start side gigs, or rather, side “hustles” which is the most embarrasing way to admit that you haven’t lived your dreams. So then we become boss babes and join MLM’s and try to get our old high school friends to spend more money that we don’t have because we’re still paying off student loans.

But you Zoomers know this. You know all this. And it’s okay if you make fun of me for needing my ridiculously-long Starbucks order. I’ve lived long enough for other people to see my character traits and I kind of deserve the mockery. I can handle the criticism.

Enjoy the mom jeans. I’m serious.

Also…

Should I stop using GIFs in my Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews reviews? Because now I’m insecure.

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My Struggle with Cancelling Marilyn Manson

For some reason, my Marilyn Manson post is the most-viewed post on this blog. On February 1st, 2021 (yesterday, upon the writing of this post) Evan Rachel Wood disclosed some pretty horrific details of her relationship with Manson. His label dropped him. Multiple television platforms dropped his shows. He became, as the touchy people like to say: CANCELLED. And us Manson fans were left in this all-too-commonplace scenario in the #metoo era.

What Do You Do When One of “Your” Celebrities is Cancelled?

Do you erase that fandom now?

Do you throw away their work?

How to we change our feelings about how their work has affected us? Work that once meant something to us? Work that provided comfort or assurance or solace in a pivotal time of life?

Manson’s entire public life always thrived on shock and controversy. I started listening to his music when I was 12. I loved “The Dope Show”. His music reached that dark parts of me, not in a bad way, but in a constructive one. I didn’t have to feel weird about it. Maybe people would think I was weird because of the stuff I wrote about, but there was a truth worth telling. And I guess that’s what his music has meant to me, without delving too much into my religious struggle that already gone into.

What I Can Say NOW About Marilyn MansonHe seems like an awful person with a lot of unresolved personal issues.He has drug problems.His “shock rocker” persona is something he’s adopted in all facets of life.He uses his fame and power to get things for himself (primarily much younger women).Like a lot of middle-aged men, he’d probably have avoided a lot of his problems if he just got some therapy.

So hey, not an ideal guy.

I mean, sure he had some interesting things to say post-Columbine, but now that we’re all paying attention to the book he wrote BACK IN 1998, it’s pretty damn obvious that eloquent people can also have some serious damage. He pretty bluntly told us all the person he was and somehow we all just ignored it until now.

When Evan Rachel Wood disclosed the details of her relationship with Manson, I did write a tweet responding to the matter:

I still like Marilyn Manson’s music but I believe Evan Rachel Wood. It’s tough to know what to do in these cases when the abuser is someone whose art resonates in some place with you.

ALWAYS separate the person from their work.

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) February 1, 2021

A handful of people (likely fans of Manson’s music) liked the tweet. I also got a few responses from folks explaining that it was wrong to “give bad people a platform” and that “continuing to support a bad person’s work was inconsiderate of their victim’s feelings”. I’m paraphrasing here, but this is essentially the argument that people made to me.

Separating A Figure From Their Work

I do, however, stand by the concept of separating people from their work. I’m an author, and as an author, I’ve learnt that separating oneself from their work is important. Whatever I write is subject to proper criticism. People can say all the positive things they want about my fiction, but they’re also allowed to criticize the shit out of it.

That’s why they typically tell authors NEVER to respond to bad reviews. Because your work isn’t “yours” anymore once other people read it. Readers perceive their own meaning. Their own understanding. Even if they don’t understand it at all, they’re fully allowed to give it 1 star on Goodreads.

My writing isn’t fully a representation of me and my private life. I see it as art. It’s open and subjective to opinion. Sure, some of my stories might be inspired by my life or my opinions, but the stories themselves exist to be interpreted in their own way.

In the case of “cancelling” a celebrity, though, well, it’s kind of the reverse, isn’t it?

Is Marilyn Manson’s private life a part of his music?

I guess we all know the answer is Yes.

I’ve never listened to Manson’s 7th studio album The High End of Low, which contains that infamous song about him murdering Evan Rachel Wood, titled, “I Want to Kill You Like They Do in the Movies”. The album’s Wikipedia page pretty much makes it obvious that the dude was in a pretty troubled state at the time of writing, recording, and promoting the album.

Obviously, like with Taylor Swift, his persona is a part of his music.

My Relationship with Marilyn Manson’s Music

I’m not a well-versed Manson fan, though I guess I don’t even need to be ashamed of that now.

I haven’t listened to his entire canon of work. I listen to Mechanical Animals, Holy Wood, and Heaven Upside Down. Sometimes I listen to The Golden Age of Grotesque if I feel kind of nostalgic for the aggressive sound of my teenage years, but honestly, most of the songs are pretty dumb and juvenile.

His latest album, We Are Chaos is pretty good too, but I didn’t get much time to really indulge in it before the Wood revelations came out, so here we are.

Some of the songs in those albums have violent lyrics, sure. Are they manifestations of things he’s actually done in real life? I don’t know. I personally like the stuff he’s written about American culture and some of his more introspective songs like “Saturnalia”, which is about the death of his father.

Should I just never listen to it again? Can we not recognize any of it as good? Do we just delete “The Dope Show” from every 90s alternative music playlist?

Degrees of Cancellation

This is where things get subjective. Because music is personal. People resonate differently with it. People still listen to Michael Jackson. Plenty of people still read and enjoy and buy every single Harry Potter-related item that capitalism provides to us. And yes, sometimes I do still look back and appreciate this particular sequence from Louie.

Does it make me a horrible person if I choose to bring Mechanical Animals with me if I were on a deserted island? Does liking this album not make me feminist? Not make me believe women? Not make me a good Christian?

I hope that Marilyn Manson faces retribution for what he’s done. I believe Evan Rachel Wood and the other women who’ve come forward. Their testimonies sound credible and corroborate with statements that Manson has made himself. He negatively-impacted people’s lives with his actions.

He also impacted people’s lives with his music. Maybe for better. Maybe for worse. But that’s ultimately up to the fans to decide. His music meant something to me. I don’t think that makes me connect with his behavior in any way. The articles are horrifying. They stuck with me all night and I had a hard time getting to sleep.

I can’t allow myself to his music for a while, but I’ve had “I Don’t Like the Drugs, (But the Drugs Like Me)” stuck in my head all day. I’ll probably listen to it again eventually, once the shock has worn off. Just not now.

Because again, whenever “Thriller” comes on at a wedding reception, a lot of people get up and go to the dance floor. I don’t think anyone idolizes Michael Jackson for being a child molester when they’re dancing to one of his songs. They’re not glorifying him. They’re not giving him a platform for his behavior. It’s about the song, not the performer in that moment.

I think it’s okay to wrestle with this. And I think it’s okay to listen. I think it’s okay to dance. I also think it’s okay to throw all of Marilyn Manson’s music away, should you choose.

There’s no one right answer to this problem, honestly.

In Terms of Cancelling Marilyn Manson, What I Know For SURE is This:

I no longer regret not buying that Marilyn Manson beach towel.

PHOTO CREDIT
David Pursehouse

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8 Albums I Loved in College

I never often talk about the music that got me through life, so I thought it’d start where it really meant a lot: my college days. I only spent 1.5 years of my life in college before I decided to quit in favour of writing part-time, but I still have myself a decent collection of albums from that time. So here are 8 albums from my ill-fated college days.

Franz Ferdinand – You Could Have It So Much Better

This album came out in September of 2005, but I didn’t buy a copy until January of 2006, which technically was my “gap year” that I took to pretend to be a writer. Mostly depressing, this year consisted of me waking up late and drinking an entire pot of coffee while cruising the internet, but that’s pretty much what the full-time writing gig consists of, anyway. You Could Have It So Much Better at least made those early winter months much more thrilling. It’s first single, “Do You Want To” meant everything to me. During that time I published one story in a fledgling online magazine and it meant the world to me. I flaunted this feat when I finally DID enter college in the fall of 2006.

I even referenced this album in my Patreon-exclusive story, Modern Ruins.

FAVE TRACKS: “The Fallen”, “Do You Want To”, “Eleanor Put Your Boots On”, “Fade Together”

Emily Haines – Knives Don’t Have Your Back

This album came out in fall of 2006, which when I started college. It quickly became a somber soundtrack for all those days that I’d walk around campus with my iPod, going from class to class and then from school over to work.

Days quickly became exhausting, but I do particularly remember one afternoon I had off, shortly after I’d purchased my very first laptop and I took it to the park and wrote under one of the trees that I used to play under as a kid. “Reading in Bed” in particular really brings me back to that very specific moment when I felt very author-like and like weird person legit.

FAVE TRACKS: Our Hell, Dr. Blind, Detective Daughter, The Lottery, Reading in Bed

Feist – The Reminder

Remember that addictive Feist song that dominated the world in the era of iPods? Because I still like that song, despite not knowing what the hell it’s about. I like to joke that a part of being a Canadian is trying to figure out what the fuck a Feist song is about.

Anyway, I listened to this album A LOT after I’d moved out of my parents’ house and lived that brutal life of school, then work, then walking home late at night wanting to die. I’d consdier The Reminder my first “college album”. It got me through a lot of that, specifically the song “Past in Present”. And we can either love or hate “1234” with every fibre of our being, but there’s no denying that “My Moon My Man” is easily the best song on the album.

FAVE TRACKS: My Moon My Man, The Water, Past in Present, 1234, Brandy Alexander

Peaches – Impeach My Bush

I listened to Peaches on and off in high school. At the time her music was a bit too edgy for me. I started college in the dying day of the Bush era, which really made me question a lot of my own Christian indoctrination. Then Impeach My Bush came out, and hey, this album was kind of momentous in my feminism and my self-esteem, honestly. It was both accessible (“Downtown”) but also classic electroclash Peaches sleazy (“Stick it to the Pimp”). This album kind of helped college me get in touch with adult me.

I’ll never not love “Slippery Dick”, btw.

FAVE TRACKS: Boys Wanna Be Her, Downtown, Tent in Your Pants, Slippery Dick

Tiga – Sexor

For whatever reason back in 2007 I was determined to listen to Last Gang Records’ ENTIRE catalogue of music. It wasn’t that big of a catalogue but they were basically pioneers of great Canadian music at the time, launching the careers of Death From Above 1979, Metric, Crystal Castles and the like. So yeah, I was determined to get in at the beginning. One of my favourite listens became Tiga’s Sexor, which I listened to frequently in the summer of 2007 when my sister and I moved out of my parents’ house and into our first apartment.

It was a summer of fun and parties and feeling like the most reckless adult of all time. “You Gonna Want Me” made every college party mix I made. Like party mix as in a CD, which is kind of weird to think back that I used to waste time burning CD’s.

FAVE TRACKS: You Gonna Want Me, Far From Home, High School, Good As Gold, Brothers

Scissor Sisters – Ta-Dah

When my former friend moved in with some of her newly-acquired college friends into a run-down 70s house uptown, it quickly became the party house for our little gang of aimless young adults. The landlord barely took care of the place. It had no floors and various drafts in the doors and windows. It wasn’t all that hospitable but it made for great parties because it didn’t matter how messy the place got. During those days, Scissors Sisters’ single “Don’t Feel Like Dancing” was EVERYFUCKINGWHERE and I absolutely hated the song and the band. But when that song came on, everybody danced.

It wasn’t until we had a little road trip to pick up a used car that my friend was buying in the nearby town of Penticton that our new friend Jason played both Scissor Sisters albums on the way that my opinion of the band finally changed. Their music was fun and got people together. Not to mention its ties to the LGBTQ+ community, of which I found myself befriending on a regular basis. I quickly found myself becoming an ally.

FAVE TRACKS: I Don’t Feel Like Dancin, She’s My Man, Kiss You Off, Ooh

Bat For Lashes – Fur & Gold

I used to follow this blog of obscure things back in the early aughts. They shared toys and novelties and fun videos online and stuff. One of these videos was the music video for Bat for Lashes’ “What’s A Girl to Do?”, and well, then I found a brand new artist to devour with all my might.

This was the album that marked the beginning of the end of my college days, however. I only did one full year of college. In second year, things changed and my original intention of going into journalism faded from mind. All I wanted was to write fiction, and Fur and Gold kind of led me further down that path with its witchy vibe and haunting songs.

I listened to “Sad Eyes” a lot while writing stories for my Creative Writing class.

FAVE TRACKS: “The Fallen”, “Do You Want To”, “Eleanor Put Your Boots On”, “Fade Together”

The Birthday Massacre – Walking with Strangers

I discovered The Birthday Massacre in high school and it felt like I found myself a home in music. This album came out in fall of 2007, which was also the fall of my time in college. At that point in time, I found a new love of writing. I went to my Creative Writing class with eagerness and uh, quickly stopped going to all of my other classes.

This proved to be a difficult time of life because quitting college in a time when everyone was telling Millennials to GO TO FUCKING COLLEGE TO GET A GOOD JOB, I was scared. But all I cared about was writing. My retail job gave me enough money to support myself.

So I said “Goodnight” to college and I wrote. And this album proved to be the soundtrack for everything I wrote at the time. None of it was good, but that’s beside the point.

FAVE TRACKS: Kill the Lights, Goodnight, Falling Down, Remember Me, To Die For

Considering that I only spent 1.5 years in college, I hope you enjoyed my musical blast from the past. These albums meant a lot to me and helped me become an adult, and occasionally I’ll pop one in (or just search it on Spotify) and remember those days.

College was kind of pointless for me but there definitely is a truth to the weird friendships you make in those days. I didn’t make a ton of new friends in college but I met my husband there and befriended many in the LGBTQ+ community there, and that was a pivotal time that ultimately led me to being a retail worker with a novel that will hopefully find a publisher soon.

What are some of the albums you listened to in college? Give me some nostalgia, (or make me feel really young or old) in the comments!

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WEB OF DREAMS: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

Here we are at the final book of the Casteel series, one of the most beloved series in the V.C. Andrews canon. Web of Dreams goes back in time to Leigh VanVoreen, Heaven’s biological mother, and follows her path to becoming “Angel” Casteel. So let’s give this series the final Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews treatment, shall we?

WITH NOWHERE TO GO, NO ONE TO HELP HER, LEIGH FLED INTO THE ARMS OF LUKE CASTEEL!

Leigh VanVoreen had to escape form Boston’s Farthinggale Manor. The foul secret she harbored within her seemed to darken her life forever. Jillian, her mother, would not believe her . . . and Tony Tatterton, her stepfather, had betrayed her most cruelly.

But the pure devotion of Luke Casteel promised her hope and respect. Only Luke knew her deepest of secrets . . . only Luke would love and protect her. Bravely she bore the suspicions of the Willies’ hillfolk, as she tried to grasp the happiness that had so long eluded her. Leigh prayed with all her heart that her bright, shining dreams would save her from tragedy at last…

First off, this summary describes what is literally the last 15% of the book, if even that. I’m being generous. Having recently agonized over my book pitch and synopsis, reading this summary was a massive bitch-slap. Can you imagine being a literary agent, reading this above synopsis and then getting a novel that consists of basically NOTHING that was presented in the pitch?

It’d be rejections all around. And yet this book exists with it’s HORRIBLE synopsis, forever mocking me for all my hard work.

About Web of Dreams

Published in 1990, Web of Dreams serves as the final chapter of the Casteel saga, which, oddly isn’t really about any blood Casteels. Ya ever notice that?

In the V.C. Andrews fanbase, the later installments of the series are considered to be of lesser quality. Sure, Andrew Neiderman had some big shoes to fill. I feel to some degree that he got Andrews’ voice in his prose. He definitely amps up the saccharine shit, but he does succeed at taming Andrews’ tendency to meander. His writing proves an easier read for a kind of “hate-reader” such as myself.

Fallen Hearts sucked because Heaven’s voice changed under his pen. Gates of Paradise sucked because Annie proved herself quite the little princess AND her story remained confined in one stupid room. Web of Dreams, which weirdly doesn’t have much of a “heaven-focused” title, gives Neiderman his first real chance to shine under Andrews’ shadow.

My Copy of Web of Dreams

I ended up with two copies of Web of Dreams. I purchased one from Thriftbooks labelled to be in “Like New” condition. To be fair, it wasn’t bad. Dogeared. Creased spines. The other I found at Value Village and it was like four bucks so I bought it thinking it’d be in better shape then the first copy I bought.

SIDEBAR: I don’t know why I now have this weird need to buy progressively better copies of the same books. Perhaps my wish now is to pass this collection onto my daughter who will probably be smart enough to scoff and roll her eyes at just how misogynist and ridiculous these books actually are. But now, well, she likes the stepback covers. And that’s what really matters with V.C. Andrews books. When I die, this collection will be a prized piece of my estate that I will pass on to her.

Web of Dreams features Leigh’s solemn face above a not-so-castle-looking Farthinggale Manor, and a series of foiled blue spiderwebs around the house.

This is easily one of the best cover designs. Simple, but spooky. The wet look of the webs and the contrast of the red title look great. Often Times, V.C. Andrews covers use a theme of moons trees to feature the protagonist’s face, but this one is prime.

Beneath the cover, we get a shot of Leigh standing in the background with her “portrait doll” (which Heaven discovers in the first book). Beside her is pervert pedo Tony. Seated in the chair is her mother, Jillian. The little boy is Troy, who OF COURSE has to be wearing the stereotypical sailor outfit to convey innocence or whatever.

Now, as always, I’m just gonna bring up period accuracy here. Heaven was published in 1985. Typically, I consider the publishing date of the first book to coincide with the time period of the story (unless stated otherwise). Leigh gave birth to Heaven around the age of 13-14, which sets Web of Dreams somewhere in the early 70s.

And sure, you could argue that Leigh’s outfit doesn’t exactly speak 1970s, but I spose it would if she were a rich prude going for some more pure vibes, which the book DOES suggest. But Jillian? No way, honey. That outfit is PURE UNADULTERATED 80s.

Web of Dreams : The Grown-Ass Review

As I mentioned in my review of Darkest Hour, we always start these prequel books with all the knowledge of every single plot development. Basically, the general appeal of these prequels is getting ALLLLLLLL of the details of what occured before.

And boy oh boy, is Web of Dreams ever jizzy.

Juicy.

To start things off, Annie and Luke revisit Farthinggale Manor after laying Troy to rest beside Heaven. They find a Leigh’s diary inside of Jillian’s desk. Annie opens it and begins to read.

An Innocent & Pretty, Yet Completely Naive Female Protagonist

We meet Leigh after she has a foreshadowing nightmare about her parents leaving her before she wakes up on her 12th birthday. Because yes, we meet about 55.6% of all V.C. Andrews protagonists on their oh-so-special and oh-so-perfect birthday. That is, until one wrench gets thrown into the mix and the whining begins.

But, in a change of pace, Leigh receives a special journal from her father, Cleave. This is the journal that us readers are now reading from (through Annie). Leigh also receives a crap-ton of cashmere sweaters and fancy-ass rich woman stuff from her vain mother, Jillian.

Then later, Jillian gives her one last final present, which is, of course:

Why is a stupid bra ALLLLLLLWWWAAAAAAAAYS the pivotal scene to portray a girl “becoming a woman”? For most, it’s the first period, but there’s no way in period hell that a man would ever write about a period, because what kind of male writer gets to gawk at the female body when speaking of periods?

So instead we get this male-gaze BS “knowledge” from Jillian:

“You don’t wear this all the time, just on occasions when you will meet elegant people and handsome, wealthy suitors, and when you put this on under your new cashmere sweaters…”

I took the bra gingerly. My heart was still racing.

“Men, especially men of position and wealth, like to be seen with women who are stunning. It strokes their egos, understand?”

page 15

Ever the advice-giver, Jillian goes on:

“Men see women as ornaments.”

“But is that good?” I wondered aloud.

“Of course it’s good. Let them think what they want, as long as they work themselves to the bone making you happy.”

BUT SHE DOESN’T STOP THERE AND SLAPS ON THIS BS:

“Always remember, Leigh, women can never be as promiscuous as men. Never.”

And THEN, because this agony must continue:

“It’s all right for men to be that way. It’s expected. They want to prove their manhood, but if a woman is that way, she will lose everything important. Nice girls don’t go all the way. Not until they’re married.”

page 16

Anyway, Jillian retells her amazing fantastic whimsical and totally romantic AF story about how she met Cleave, because Leigh just LOVES IT SO FUCKING MUCH. And we basically get the gist of his mother/daughter relationship, right?

We know where this is going, right?

A Tragic Death

So the tragic death in this book isn’t so much as a death as it is a divorce.

Cleave VanVoreen owns a cruise ship company (but for some reason acts more like a captain of one ship within the company named The Jillian, instead of doing normal CEO office bullshit). Either way, he takes long trips that leave Leigh and her mother alone. This time, however, he decides to take out the entire family for an extended voyage to Jamaica.

And the whole ass time Jillian complains about it.

She spends all her time in her suite, moaning and begroaning in her bed. She complains about how the ocean’s ruining her hair even though she’s INSIDE HER SUITE ON HER BED. Then she gets seasick and a bunch of doctors try to help but nothing helps because she really just wants to get back to Boston to continue boning it up with Tony Tatterton, a toymaker whose house she’s painting some fancy murals in.

The ship docks in Montego Bay and Jillian comes out dressed in a full-silk 80s cardigan suite ensemble, saying that she plans on flying back to Boston. Leigh loses her shit:

“Oh, Momma.” I was crying now, crying so hard I thought I might never stop, and I couldn’t keep myself from calling her the name from my childhood. Oh, why couldn’t I be back in that happy, safe, childhood!

page 74

Later, after Jillian leaves, Cleave confesses to Leigh that she went to Florida to process a divorce. Leigh cries half her body weight during the rest of the cruise, but also somehow finds the time to make some friends and get all sexy in front of the mirror like her mother:

I stood there assuming different poses, trying to imitate some of Momma’s expressions and looks. I sucked in my cheeks, turned my shoulders, drew my shoulders back and thrust out my breasts until they looked more prominent.

page 87

A Rags to Riches Plot

Because Cleave drowns his divorce sorrows in his next sailing journey, he sends Leigh back to live with her mother, who is now engaged to Tony Tatterton and plans on getting married that winter.

Leigh moves into Farthinggale Manor and meets the young Troy, and I won’t lie, I appreciate their relationship. We see some of Troy’s weird unexplained maladies but not any of Tony’s real concern about it. Sure, Leigh is concerned, but she also is more concerned about the worsening state of her mother’s vanity.

Neiderman really pulls no punches making Jillian the most vain woman who ever existed. He’s always good at it, which I suppose works in terms of the era we’re in, but all of the vapidness is always about image and status. None of his “villains” ever have deeper character flaws. Jillian might be fucking ridiculous, but she isn’t complex like Kitty Dennison.

A Beloved Doting Paternal Figure

If you didn’t get enough of pervy Tony Tatterton in the the rest of the series, Web of Dreams will fix all of that for you. Previous books had a naked late-night drunken rape attempt here or there, but this book?

When Leigh first meets Tony, she finds herself confused by her attraction to him. Which is reasonable. She’s a preteen entering the flood of her sexuality and he’s a 23 year-old man. He buys her a necklace and treats her the way a proper gentleman would.

Then, on Thanksgiving, while Leigh’s looking after little Troy, she catches perv-tastic Tony trying to get Jillian into bed because it’s “almost their wedding day”. Jillian pushes him off and Tony plays the whole 90s blue balls dude stereotype. Then this happens:

Just before they turned to go back to the others, Tony caught sight of me peering out of Troy’s playroom door. For a long moment, his eyes burned into mine and I felt like he had stroked my hair or the delicate, airy fabric of my dress.

page 122

Later, when Jillian and Leigh leave, Tony kisses Leigh on the forehead and she wonders how she could ever consider such a handsome young man her stepfather.

A Vivid Gothic Setting

Once again, we continue our story in Farthinggale Manor, which has less of an influence in Leigh’s life than it did on Heaven and Annie. The manor takes a backseat to the maze, which we learn a bit more about from Tony:

“I never actually measured it, but Boris, my head grounds keeper, thinks at least half an acre, if not more.”

page 36

To which I’m like:

Because if you ask the internet for specific visuals, it’s pretty fucking obvious that a half an acre maze isn’t actually that big. And now that I know how big the maze is, I’m supposed to believe that Heaven AND Leigh got lost in there for hours? Not only that, but somehow Troy managed to pretend he a dead for YEARS by hiding in a cottage inside a hedgemaze that was only HALF AN ACRE BIG?!?!?!?

Incest!

None! Nada!

What we get instead is that “safe” version in the form of step-dad sex, which isn’t exactly incest but is just as gross.

In this case, Tony becomes irate with Jillian’s weird obsession with not fucking him and so he instead turns his attention on Leigh. THEN he gets this brilliant idea to make this new line of prestigious Tatterton Toys dolls called “Portrait Dolls”, which will be modelled and created to look exactly like real girls.

Jillian for some reason (because she’s too busy with her skin regime instead of caring about pedos) is 100% in when Tony decides to model the very first doll after Leigh. Not just after her face, but the body. Jillian tells Leigh that she’ll have to pose naked in a studio set up in the cottage in the middle of the hedgemaze.

In response, Leigh goes back to her room and has YET ANOTHER “woman looks at her body in the mirror” moment:

I stripped off my bathing suit and preened before my full-length mirror gazing at myself, studying my every curve. The veins around my emerging breasts were close to the surface, stretching and growing every day. Would Tony concentrate on such detail?

page 241

Still upset with the concept of posing naked, Leigh wonders what her dad would think. Then she realizes that he wouldn’t care, because her dad has met a new woman named Mildred who Leigh believes is absorbing all his attention, a concept that the book doesn’t ever progress on. Nevertheless, the whole “dad has a new wife” plotline is enough to make Leigh go forward with posing naked as a minor in front of a grown-ass man.

It’s even grosser with this revelation:

I untied my robe and let the garment fall to my feet. I would be a Tatterton doll. I might even give Daddy one on his wedding day.

page 243

Which is a whole lot of WTF? Literally no healthy-minded teenage girl (as Leigh is supposed to be) would ever want to give her dad a doll modelled fully after her. I don’t know why Neiderman focuses so much on her obsession that borders on sexual with her dad, but the book never returns to it.

Fantastic Psychological Horror

I will give Neiderman a touch of credit for fleshing out Leigh’s mental state in the middle of her parents’ divorce. I did feel her trauma with being distant from her father, her alienation trying to find her place in Farthy, and her troubles with her vain mother. Jillian proves herself QUITE the riot in that she basically married Tony solely to upgrade her social life, but then she spends a majority of her time being stressed out about said social life and slapping all the 80s era anti-aging creams on her face.

Leigh enjoys her time with Troy, but finds all of her comfort in Tony, which is obviously problematic considering that Tony begins seeing Leigh as a body substitute for Jillian. And, well, then we get the MYRIAD of pervy modelling scenes that are beyond uncomfortable to read.

And hey, this is peak V.C. Andrews, with a dirty rich dude and some the teenage sexual naivete combining to make passages like this where he gets her to slowly unbutton her shirt so he can sketch her torso:

“Now, let your blouse go.” I released it and it fell to my feet. “Yes,” he said in a loud whisper. “The lines of your neck and shoulders…”

“What about them?” I asked quickly.

“Nothing bad,” he replied with a slight laugh. “They threw me for a moment.” I heard him come up behind me and then I felt the tips of his fingers trace the curve of my neck and shoulders. I jumped when I felt him. “Try to relax,” he whispered in my ear. “Sometimes an artist has to make contact with his subject so he truly absorbs the lines and curves in his consciousness. At least I do.”

page 251

Tony asks Leigh about kissing and boys. He asks if she’s ever French-kissed and grown-ass me CAN’T HELP BUT CRINGE AT THIS OBVIOUS GROOMING. It’s so awful to read as an adult and I can’t help but wonder if all the girls that read this in the 90s understood exactly what was going on.

Tony asks if she’s seen a boy naked and then proceeds to express his marital problems with Jillian not wanting to bone him. It shows much of his mental delusion but doesn’t in any way excuse his behaviour as the modelling sessions continue and he starts saying that he cant draw her boobs and ass right and has to start touching her and stuff.

I gotta wonder how Neiderman feels writing this shit. Like he does it over and over because Simon and Shuster will pay him to do it until the V.C. Andrews name no longer has selling power. But that’s gotta be really fucking awkward to write as a grown-ass man who doesn’t want to look like a pervert.

Then Tony converts all the drawings and paintings into the modelled doll, which isn’t all that accurate, considering that he gave the doll all of Leigh’s facial features but her mother’s total MILF bod:

The moment I looked at it, my face turned beet red and I gasped. My head was reeling. I felt hot all over, then cold. My face was perfect but he had sculpted every detail and every part of my body with such exaggeration, it looked pornographic . Everyone could see this . . . boys . . . everyone.

page 285

A Hostile Maternal Figure (+ Bonus Mean Girl!)

Leigh rightly goes to (FINALLY) tell Jillian. By this point we already know just how fucking vapid a woman Jillian is. Also, because this is a V.C. Andrews book, we know just what Jillian’s response to this revelation will be:

“Is that all?” she asked when I was finished. She turned to her vanity table.

“All? Isn’t it enough?” I cried.

“But he hasn’t done anything to you, has he? You said yourself he tries to make you comfortable each time. He sounds very considerate to me,” she said and stated to turn back to the mirror.

page 266

SO CLEARLY JILLIAN ONLY UNDERSTANDS ONE MEANING OF THE TERM GROOMING.

Don’t get too outraged, though. Because it gets worse.

Some Good Olde School Misogyny

In the same scene, Jillian continues her ignorance with this statement that is shockingly both misogynistic and a bit misandric:

“What you’re doing is wonderful . . . for both of you. He seems so involved, so pleased. To tell you the truth, Leigh,” she said, turning back to me, “before he got involved with this project, I thought he was going to drive me mad. He was at my door night and day, demanding my attention. I never realized how possessive he was and how much he needed to be occupied. A man like Tony could exhaust one woman to death!” she declared.

page 267

THEN Leigh explains that the doll looks like Jillian, and this is Jillian’s response:

“How clever. He’s combining both of us into this wonderful new work of art. Why, I guess it has to be expected — the man is completely obsessed with me. He has me on his mind night and day,” she said playing with her hair. Then she turned back to me. “You must not blame him for it, Leigh. He simply can’t help it.”

“Now you understand why I run away sometimes, why I need relief, why he must be distracted by one thing or another. It’s so difficult for a woman when a man literally worships the ground she walks upon.” She sighed. “Sometimes, I long for him to be more like your father.”

page 267

And it’s kind of a huge slap in the face that this point, just how fucking delusional she is.

All of this culminates into the scene where Tony busts into Leigh’s bedroom in the middle of the night and rapes her. Afterward, Leigh again goes to Jillian, who blames Leigh for///

It’s Jillan’s indifference that drives Leigh away from Farthy. THANK GOD! For some reason, because she wants the haunting reminder of Tony’s molestation with her at all times, or maybe because we need a stupid device to connect this whole flashback back to Heaven, Leigh takes the portrait doll along with her.

Then she finds Luke working at a carnival (WHICH IS WHERE LUKE’S WEIRD RANDOM OBSESSION WITH OWNING A CARNIVAL ORIGNALLY CAME FROM!) and you really only need the book synopsis to get you up to speed here. Luke (17) becomes infatured with Leigh so much so that he calls her “Angel” and then leaves the carnival to take her back home and become his wife. Leigh gets along with Luke’s parents, gets accustomed to “hill scum” life, gets pregnant, then takes a walk in the woods with Luke.

During the walk, she begins having early contractions that literally take her to her knees, but instead of worrying, she asks Luke to let her take one last look at the stars.

Some Really Bad Writing

To be honest, Leigh’s naive character supported most of the narrative this time around, and I found her voice more effective. I didn’t notice a lot of the V.C. Andrews-isms that her books are notoriously known for. Maybe I’m just becoming desensitized.

Or, maybe Neiderman just found his stride in this book?

Honestly, it wasn’t horrible. He did a decent job at putting us in Leigh’s shoes as she navigates the changes that occur with puberty (with some problematic cliches, but it wouldn’t be a V.C. Andrews book without said problematic cliches).

I don’t know. Maybe I’m fully into the V.C. Andrews universe now that I’m failing to see its flaws. Do I need help? Deprogramming?

Please, uh, let me know.

Web of Dreams: My Grown-Ass Final Thoughts

Aside from the last 20% of the book being a stupid rambling mess of quickly-paced meet-cute between literal teenagers who decide to get married too damn early, I honestly thought that Web of Dreams was the best book in the Casteel Series.

I’m sorry. I know you Andrews purists probably hate me for this, but the plot remained focused and the tension, for the most part, remained high. Some of the abuse scenes were absolutely uncomfortable to read but let’s not lie and pretend that these scenes aren’t the sole reason we’re reading V.C. Andrews in the first place.

Granted, Andrews herself did a better job of conveying a victim’s response to abuse in Heaven, but this book just worked for me. It being a prequel, I thought Neiderman managed to weave all the elements from the first three books to come full-circle.

The post WEB OF DREAMS: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

All the Books I Read in 2020

I didn’t think that I had the time to write this but the kids are watching Wild Kratts and my husband is trying to figure out which local pizza place to get food from tonight. So alas, here I am to tell you about all the books I read in 2020.

2020 proved to be a good year for reading. For other people, that is. Not for me. All that spring quarantine stuff left me with so much kid time and 0 time for mental sanity.

How Many Books Did I Read in 2020?

All the above said, I did buy a ton more V.C. Andrews books and made myself a nice trash book / high heel bookshelf. But I had little time to read them. I finished the Casteel series and that was it.

In total, 2020 gave me the opportunity to finish 13 books. It’s not the 30 books that I managed to churn through last year, but 13 is a rather fitting number, considering all the bullshit that 2020 brought with it.

The List

Here are all the books I read this year:

Monsters in Appalachia – Sheryl MonksThe Paying Guests – Sarah WatersEllen in Pieces – Caroline AddersonFallen Hearts – V.C. AndrewsBlackbirds – Chuck WendigGates of Paradise – V.C. AndrewsThe Dead Girls Club – Damien Angelica WatersThe Family Upstairs – Lisa JewellThe Risen – Ron RashThe May Queen Murders – Sarah JudeKens – Raziel ReidThe Chosen One – Sarah Lynch WilliamsWeb of Dreams – V.C. AndrewsAgainst the Web – Michael BrooksUncle Silas – J. Sheridan Le FanuI’m From Nowhere – Lindsay Kerman



2020 Goals Achieved?

I referred back to my 2019 list and found this silly list of goals for this past year.

Read more indie authors (friends) (I fear a few more than usual, including Sheryl Monks, Damien Angelica Waters, and Lindsay Kerman.)Read more Canadian literature (I only read 2 Canadian authors compared to 2019’s count of 4.)Read at least 35 books (lololololol)Branch out in genre (I read some older stuff, a bit more literary, experimental stuff and some teen lit too. I really quite enjoy teen lit and do plan on seeking out more.)Read at least TWO non-fiction books (The only non-fiction book I read was Michael Brooks’ Against the Web, which I read because it was short and Michael sadly passed this summer due to a sudden health issue.)



2020 Reading Takeaways

Allow me a moment to reflect on this year of reading:

I read new shit:

I tried new things and supported some writer friends by buying their books. For years my books always came off bestseller lists but it is nice to take the chance on new work. Granted, not all of my writer friends write work that I can fully appreciate it, but I do like new voices. I found them and supported some small presses along the way.

I found a new love:

Teen lit is kind of lit, honestly. I like being able to finish a book in a week while also enjoying the ride. I plan on reading more to bulk up my book load for next year.

I took on some bulky reads:

As for reading older works? I enjoy it, especially the gothic stuff, but holy shit, Uncle Silas took me OVER TWO MONTHS TO READ. Same goes for Sarah Waters’ The Paying Guests, which isn’t an older work but is a long book and takes place in an older time period. I’m counting it. I plan on being more sparing with longer books, not because I don’t enjoy them but because I’m not in the state of my life where I can properly appreciate them.

Most nights I literally just read 7 pages and fall asleep. The rest of my day is for work and shit.

I wasn’t horny:

For some reason I didn’t read ANY erotica?

I gave up on thrillers:

Funny how I bought quite a few but the only hyped thriller I dove into this year was Lisa Jewell’s The Family Upstairs, which sounded intriguing but ultimately let me down in the end, like they allllllllll do.

Don’t get me wrong, I still plan on reading them, but I’m so picky that I’d rather take chances on a lesser-known thriller like Damien Angelica Waters’ The Dead Girls Club, which I loved for it’s creepy factor and peak 90s aesthetic.

I didn’t read enough V.C. Andrews:

I’m sorry friends. I let you down. I have a nearly-finished review of the final book in the Casteel series on the way, though, and I’m currently reading this rare but obviously-cashing-in-on-Twilight standalone V.C. Andrews books right now and am kind of loving it so far? So I won’t let you down. In the meantime you can catch up on my back catalogue of V.C. Andrews reviews in clear anticipation.

2021 Goals

I failed this year and that’s okay. Now I can be a bit more realistic in 2021. Gonna keep it simple this year.

Read more small press / friends’ books!Read at least TWO non-fiction books.Read more diverse voices.Reread a book! Any book!



How many books did you read in 2020?

Go on. Tell me. Any surprises? Loves? Loathes?

Have you ever reread a book? Because I haven’t and I know that’s kind of weird. Like, why have a bookshelf full of books you never read again?

The post All the Books I Read in 2020 appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

THE AESTHETICS: Christmas Noir

When it comes to style and fashion and such, I am all about aesthetics. Specifically with the holidays, I like a little noir with my classic Christmas. This year (2020, man) finds me in a bit of an old-timey noir mood, so what better way to celebrate the season than share my first installment of THE AESTHETICS, an infrequent style-guide that invokes my author influences.

Because this is 2020, I aim to keep my noir Christmas aesthetics focused on home life, which means old-timey coziness done with a little salacious spin. So get your eggnog chilling and indulge in a truly noir-inspired Christmas at home with me!

Nightwear

Most of the time I lounge in Adidas sweatpants but Christmas Noir means proper lounging clothes, both for comfort and sexiness. In enjoy a good nightgown, both in 1. sexy housewife style (but the kind of sexy one could wear with small children in the house) and the all-too-trendy granny style which only 2. Lanz of Salzburg can provide in luxurious baggy flannel. Oh yesss.

Triumph Darling Spotlight Nightdress (Black)



Lanz of Salzburg Flannel Nightgown







Accessories

I don’t wear a lot of enamel pins but my sister recently got me this super gothic one from Love & A Sandwich that I love. Never been much of a Santa girl, or a Satan girl, but the blend of both kind of works here.

Books & Stationary

Indulge in some non-classic Christmas lit that IS old with 3. Daphne du Maurier’s “Happy Christmas”. Then get yourself a 5. full collection of crime-ridden Christmas noir fiction. Also, send your friends from socially-distanced love with 6. this witchy card from Wax Moon Shop.

“Happy Christmas” by Daphne du Maurier



The Big Book of Christmas Mysteries – edited by Otto Penzler



Summoning the Holiday Spirit Greeting Card – Wax Moon Shop







Food & Beverages

For Christmas, I really have been enjoying 7. this blend of espresso from Caffe Monte. I do always appreciate an 8. old-fashioned Sloe Gin. And, because we like old-timey stuff, I highly recommend you trade your gingerbread with this even spicer 9. German Lebkucken that I once bought on a whim and have been enjoying ever Christmas since.

Caffe Monte Espresso Cremoso



Hayman’s Sloe Gin



Lambertz Schokoladen Lebkuchen







Entertainment

TBH, I don’t watch any of the classic Christmas movies, aside from Home Alone. Not even Die Hard, friends. BUT, I’m not one to shun Christmas entertainment. I do enjoy the old Christmas tunes and will die on a fucking hill over the fact that WHAM’s “Last Christmas” IS the best Christmas song.

“But that’s not noir Christmas!” you say.

Well, this year found my favourite pianist 10. Chilly Gonzales releasing a VERY appropriate 2020 Christmas album. Also, there’s 11. this wonderful reimaging of A Christmas Carol (not pictured, but awesome) that CBC Radio airs every year, which engages in a ridiculously satirical battle of capitalism and socialism

A Very Chilly Christmas by Chilly Gonzales (Spotify)



A Christmas Carol (Redux)







How Are You Celebrating Your 2020 Christmas?

Depending on where you are, things might be a bit rough for you. Why not make it a bit noir? Or do you need some extra cheer? No matter how you plan on celebrating this Christmas, I hope you stay safe and give yourself some time to relax.

The post THE AESTHETICS: Christmas Noir appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

The Highs and Lows of Querying

It’s been a while since I updated you all on my novel, The View From the Basement. Part of querying a novel that nobody ever tells you about is the large chunk of time you also spend ignoring the shit out of your novel once it’s out in the world, or rather, sitting in the inboxes of various literary agents. And, well, I figured it was time to be more candid about this whole process because nothing really prepares you for it, honestly.

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May: Revising + Round 1 of Querying

I started this whole process back in May. Had to go back into my Facebook profile to dig out the proper timing of this all because 2020 has been a ride, but it turns out that I dug out my old draft, revised it, and also wrote my entire synopsis and query letter in the span of a week.

So yeah, the quarantine had its positive moments.

I queried about 20 agents. I also participated in a couple of Pitch War events. Two responded immediately and requested fulls, which literally got me feeling like I was going to sell this thing right away. I got a one partial from this batch of agents too, so I was confident.

July: Rejection

I eagerly awaited a response from one agent in particular. I had high hopes. She’d followed me on Twitter years ago, likely having read one of my stories at one point.

Well, she rejected me with a nice rejection letter. It gutted me at the time because I was so confident that things would work in my favour.

The other agent who’d requested a full rejected me later:

Your writing, the unflinching nature of this story and the intensity of the relationships are all so well done and I hope it’s clear that this is a very close one for me. 

She offered a couple of wary suggestions on improving the manuscript but said she didn’t feel confident leading me down the wrong path. Which was… helpful? But also tough to take because of the previously-faced butthurt.

Looking back I now read those rejections with pride. Because I got so close on the first try. Hearing “No” is always tough at first but it’s easier to take with perspective.

The Rest of Summer: Depression Sinks In

Months passed with nothing. Then I got a third full request during the summer. Another batch of time passed and I forgot I even had a full out.

Honestly, this is where things get a bit hazy because after all that time I kind of distanced myself from the novel, didn’t want to touch it with a stick.

October: The End of Round 1

Then, in early October, the agent with the full responded:

Dear Rebecca,

Thank you so much for your patience–sometimes the better ones take the longest. Please know I carefully considered your project, but I don’t feel I can offer representation at this time. The marketplace is more selective than ever and I must keep a modest list.

I loved the creepy premise of this, however, I had a hard time getting grounded in the story. This is completely subjective, so don’t give up! Nevertheless, I wish you every success with THE VIEW FROM THE BASEMENT.

Keep going with it, there are numerous agents out there that may be a good fit. I wish you the best of luck!

Warmly,
A Very Kind Literary Agent who didn’t mean to dash all my hopes and dreams but kind of did in that moment.

Fuck.

I didn’t want to tear my hair out with revisions again because ALL of the feedback I got on the manuscript fell in this realm.

They liked it but something was missing. No real criticism. No points of where to look into fixing the problem. If there was a problem? Maybe my third act was horrible? Maybe they just weren’t into the slow burn of the book? Or, perhaps, my characters were poorly written and couldn’t carry the dark subtext of the plot? Maybe?

My brain was a cesspool of “maybes”.

With nobody left on my first list of agents, I weighed my options in my obviously shitty mental state.

The All Is Lost Moment

I considered submitting to small presses. I considered the fact that my book was an absolute piece of shit that didn’t deserve to be published at all. Sure, I could write a mean short story, but this novel shit? Not for me.

I took to Facebook and vented all the angst.

Writer friends were supportive and offered suggestions.

Non-writer friends kept telling me: “d0n’T gIvE uP!!!!!!!” And you know, I do need to hear that. I’m a pessimist when it comes to writing. I know what the publishing industry wants. I get too invested in my own world.

November: Round 2 of Querying

I had no time to compile a new list of agents. Anxiety plagued me. Still, I went over to Manuscript Wishlist and started searching up terms.

Domestic Thriller

Daphne DuMaurier

V.C. Andrews

Female Friendships

Psychological Thriller

Gillian Flynn

My husband made dinner and I frantically compiled a new list in a few hours. He also hated me for not helping by the end of it. My metal state took a blow because I felt like shit for being a shitty parent and a shitty wife, but dammit, the other 1/3 of me needed a pick-me-up and it was worth it.

I already had a good query letter, I realized, and over the next two days I sent that query to every agent on my list that was taking queries.

Then I did another PitMad event and an agent liked my pitch that I’d already submitted to! I let her know and she dug my query out of the pile that day, got back to me and said she’d devoured the sample pages.

Four more agents took the FULL DAMN MANUSCRIPT.

Obviously, at this point I refuse to get on another high horse. They could all reject this thing again, but at this point in my novel querying, I know these things:

My query letter is solidThe sample pages hookThe novel is good. It’s very close.

Of course, I hope to get an agent in this round, but I do need to prepare myself for rejection again.

My Novel Querying Takeaways

This process proved to be tougher than I thought. In my 10-year career (on and off, honestly) of writing, I feel that I developed the thick skin I needed to take criticism and rejection. Querying takes a different kind of skin.

It’s not just dealing with rejection but understanding of how the process and works and how the publishing industry work. So all my non-writer friends might mean well, telling me that I’m good and that if I work hard enough that I will find fame and fortune, BUT THIS IS NOT THE TRUTH.

My novel may not see the traditionally-published light of day.

But when querying a novel, the point is to learn.

The point is to see the pros and cons of every part of the process, as well and the strengths and weaknesses of your own work.

Fortunately, I managed to write a good query. I managed to write a good opening to attract the agents who might best represent my book. My main struggle at this point is to figure out that climax of my novel that is losing the agents.

After the first round of querying, I decided not to revise my novel. None of the agents hinted at a clear point where the novel lost them, which leads me to believe that the flaw might not be in the book itself. There might not be a flaw. The book just wasn’t exactly what the agent wanted.

Hopefully, even if all five agents with the full manuscript reject the novel, I can at least get a clearer picture of how to strengthen that part of the book. That’s my goal.

Onward!

So that’s it. My detailed story as to how the novel querying process has affected me. It’s been difficult but I know I should talk about it more because people are engaging with my “writing” posts and it’s nice. I hope I’ve enlightened you and perhaps helped you process your own querying journey.

This all just fucking sucks but we do it anyway for some reason.

Credits

Header Image by Augustine Wong

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EXCERPT: “Bodybags”

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“When It Happens” Now Out in DARK MOON DIGEST

It’s finally time, friends! We’ve made it through the madness of a hyper-partisan US election and partway through a global pandemic, and now it’s time for you to read my brand new werewolf conspiracy theory breakup story, “When It Happens” in the 10th anniversary issue of DARK MOON DIGEST!

Want an excerpt? Of course you do!

WHEN IT HAPPENS

Kate Freeman comes to terms with the reality of her broken marriage when her conspiracy theorist husband is bitten by a werewolf.

Kate cringed as the emergency room doctor pulled a needle through Michael’s wound. His skin swelled against the stitches. Blood and pus oozed through the broken flesh. The doctor dressed the wound in gauze, its white mesh layers covering the bite like a white flag.

Michael’s fists clenched when the doctor drew a full dose of the lycanthropy vaccine into a fresh syringe. “It was just a wolf,” he protested.

The doctor nodded at the bandage. “It’s a precaution, Mr. Freeman. You’re better off vaccinated than infected, and our records show that you haven’t been—”

“Werewolves don’t exist,” Michael said. 

Kate reached for her husband but Michael swatted her away.

The doctor straightened. “Were you not aware of the reported sighting in the area?” 

“I knew,” Kate said.

Posters had littered every post along the hiking trail. Everyone else heeded the warnings, but Michael always knew better. Paranoia was control and he refused to give in to it. He’d insisted they go hiking after dinner under the full moon. It was their wedding anniversary, after all. What Kate failed to mention was that her period had just started, and she was sure that the smell of the blood was what drew the wolf near.

“I’m not taking that vaccine,” Michael said to the doctor. 

“Mr. Freeman, you have to understand—”

“The moon isn’t real,” Michael insisted. “Werewolves can’t exist if the moon isn’t real.”

“Michael, please don’t do this here.” Kate met her husband’s gaze but his expression only hardened. The vein pulsed in his neck. 

“There’s proof,” he said. “There are videos on the Internet that clearly explain the moon is a hologram.”

Buy Issue #41 of DARK MOON DIGEST

Read the rest and support indie publishing!

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